Memories
by Sleep Walking Chicken
Summary: [Oneshot] Perhaps he needed to learn to show himself kindness...


**Memories **

* * *

He wasn't sure how he got there. All he knew was that he _was_ there. His bare feet padded against the soft grass quietly, the gentle night breeze ruffling his long, ebony locks. Dark, almost sad, violet eyes stared straight ahead as he wandered.

It was another lazy night, despite the fact that he was human tonight. He dimly wondered why it was that he was wandering about in his human form, unprotected, and separated from the group. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the group. In fact, it was hard for him to picture their faces in his hazy mind.

His legs wobbled as he moved and his body swayed. It seemed that if the breeze were to pick up speed just a little bit, the hanyou-turned-human would find himself on the ground, sprawled out and staring at the sky with the same dim look in his eyes.

It seemed that his senseless wandering had a purpose, however. As he rounded a bend in the forest, there was a burst of light from many lanterns lighting windows. He shielded his eyes, as if the light before him was too bright for his lavender eyes. His feet continued moving as he steadily hobbled towards the houses beyond.

The familiarity of the place tickled his senses but he didn't dwell on it. His mind was far too muddled for him to completely focus on the situation at hand.

There were giggles filling the world and he spotted a circle of children, kicking a ball back and forth happily, their lips drawn apart in an ear-splitting grin. Inuyasha paused to regard them, his head titling to the side. If they saw him, they paid him no mind. They continued on with their delighted game, their small feet kicking the circular object with all their might.

For a brief moment, he felt the urge to join them, to reach out his hand and catch the ball and play with them. He quelled that urge. He watched them instead, his purple eyes saddened.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned around just in time to see a child running towards him. He didn't even think to move, but, in the end, it proved to be useless anyway. The child passed right through him.

It was an odd sensation. Watching the child run towards you, and, instead of colliding into you, simply continue running. He turned around and watched the child screech to a halt, digging his tiny feet into the soft ground beneath their feet. He turned around, flashing bright golden eyes towards the new comer. Where had he seen that before?

"Sorry," the small child whispered, the silver ears on top of his head drooping. Ears? On top of his head? Where had he seen that before? Before he could dwell on it longer, the child was off, running towards the circle of children kicking around the ball.

He expected the children to move aside and allow the child to join in on the fun, but he was surprised—or perhaps not—to see the children back away, their mild laughter ceasing immediately.

The child looked from left to right, his ears perked upwards. He heard him speak to the children but couldn't make out the words. The other children slowly backed away, their eyebrows narrowing dangerously and their tiny fists clenching.

One of them screamed out a bad word and ran away, the others soon joining. The small child was left alone and he watched his head bow.

He took a step towards the child as he bent down and retrieved the ball the other children had abandoned. The small silver-haired boy clenched the ball to his chest and ducked his head, his shoulders heaving. As he approached the small boy, he heard his pitiful sobs and watched as small droplets fell to the ground.

He stopped just behind him and the child tensed, his ears turning back towards the stranger. Slowly, he stilled his breath and looked over his shoulder and up towards the adult. Lavender eyes regarded the child, staring into the deep golden of the child's. The child regarded him silently, not daring to sniffle or shed a tear, despite the fact that they shone brightly in the corners of his eyes.

The child stepped away and ran, his small feet carrying him as quickly as he could. He tripped and fell forward, his face colliding with the dirty road beneath him. The ball went soaring from his hands and bounced off the wall of a hut before him. It bounced on the ground and rolled to his feet. The child looked over his shoulder and sniffled again, not wanting to approach the stranger again.

He bent down and picked up the ball, his lavender eyes soft and inviting. The child took a hesitant step towards you.

"What's your name?" His voice sounded distant. It was the first time he'd spoken since… he couldn't remember. The child's bottom lip wobbled. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What's yours?" the child questioned, large golden eyes, moistened with tears, staring up at him, distrusting.

"It's…" He paused, trying to remember his name. The child looked at him eagerly, though he tried to hide it beneath a look of feigned apathy. "Inuyasha."

The child stared at him for a long moment before his lips split into a smile. "That's mine, too."

The two Inuyashas regarded one another, their eyes locking. The elder of the two sighed and closed his eyes, wishing that this weird occurrence would disappear. The child tickled his memories, and he couldn't understand where he'd seen him before.

"It's a good name," the elder said.

The littler one shook his head quickly, causing his large dog-ears to flop about atop his skull. "No. It's a bad name."

The older frowned. "Why?"

"Because it's a demon's name," the child murmured, staring up at the older, as if hoping that by locking eyes, he could make the older stranger understand. "It makes people hate me."

The elder of the two closed his eyes, trying to retrieve a memory that seemed oddly familiar to this scene. But where? Why? Where was he? Why was he here? Where were the others? Had there ever been… others?

He looked back at the child after opening his eyes and held out the ball to him. The smaller's eyes widened, unsure whether to take what was offered to him so willingly—was the older one tricking him?

His small hands, quaking, lifted towards the ball. The older did not move; he kept his hands stilled and his arms outstretched towards the child.

The small, pale hands, brimmed with small claws that couldn't cut paper, touched the ball and grasped it. The older hands, tanned, hardened, and calloused from years of fighting and work, released the ball and took a step back.

The child continued to stare at him in wonderment.

"Just… be careful," the older whispered. "Take care of yourself."

The child bobbed his head up and down. The world was fading away. The child looked sad. He imagined that he himself looked sad, too. They both knew of their predicament. They both knew what would happen to them.

The world continued to fade and haze over, like vision filled with tears.

The child watched him go, watched the older Inuyasha slowly disappear from his world. He clutched the ball to himself and ran away, searching for his home.

The elder of the two watched the child run away in his blurred vision and felt the breeze push him away from this world of familiar memories.

* * *

Golden eyes opened.

"You're awake," a gentle voice said beside him. He turned his head and stared at the familiar dress of the girl from the future. Kagome smiled at him, her black hair spilling over her shoulder as she wiped his forehead. "How are you feeing?"

"Where am I?" Inuyasha murmured. His throat was dry and scratchy, and his voice was hoarse.

"Kaede's hut," Kagome explained. "Kirara carried you back after you passed out."

"Passed out…?" Inuyasha rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache.

"Don't you remember?" the young miko questioned, her blue eyes uncertain. Inuyasha shook his head. He didn't know what was happening. He didn't know where he was. "We were fighting the monster in the mountain and it sprayed some kind of gas onto you. It knocked you out cold."

"It was some kind of dream agent," a new voice volunteered. Inuyasha tilted his head to see Miroku enter the room, Sango following behind him. His staff jingled as the metal rings clacked against one another. Kirara mewed from her position on Sango's shoulder. The kit scurried at their feet, dashing to Kagome and sitting himself on the miko's shoulder.

"It made you relive something within your subconscious," Sango offered. "It usually doesn't work on powerful demons… but…"

"You turned human," Kagome filled in before Inuyasha could go off on a tirade about how he was a powerful demon, as he was prone to do when threatened and his strength questioned.

"But you're fine now," Miroku continued with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah…" Inuyasha whispered, his eyes turning towards the ceiling. He could hear the sounds of the birds outside and the rush of the water in the river.

But, far off, in the corners of his mind, he could see a small, smiling face and the small padding of tiny children feet. Somewhere deep within him, a small child still lived, longing for that one person to treat him with kindness.

Inuyasha felt his golden eyes sweep over his companions. His friends.

Deep within his mind, he heard the swish of fabric as arms engulfed a small child. A ball bounced away, rolling to the corner where it was soon forgotten.

The hanyou sat up and rubbed his head, feeling his silver ears twitch.

Kindness was a strange thing, something he rarely offered himself.

Somewhere in that dreamscape, he noted to himself, there was a child who was happy because someone had offered him kindness.

Perhaps he needed to learn to show himself kindness.

Perhaps he did still have a lot to learn…

* * *

Author's notes: Sorry if that didn't make sense.


End file.
